


White and Red

by YoungSoon



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Fairy Tale Elements, Fate & Destiny, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Magical Bond, Red String of Fate, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, magical gardener yunho, time period inspirations of industrial revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22416958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungSoon/pseuds/YoungSoon
Summary: Destiny will find its way to work out even one has not planned on it. And it will those who are meant to find each other.
Relationships: Choi San/Jeong Yunho
Comments: 13
Kudos: 85





	White and Red

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to 🌻

The sun shines through the carefully laid glass plates of the high ceilings of a buzzing greenhouse. They wrap around the vines crawling up the left side of the greenhouse and the flowerbeds at their feet, taking up half of the space, nursing rows upon rows of bigger and smaller bushes, sprouts, and flowers in various shades of green. Near each little thing is on the verge of blooming, bursting at the seams with purple, pink, blue, and yellow petals peaking from their green homes. 

The rays of the sun travel across the aisles of shelves reaching halfway to the ceiling, stretching alongside the flowerbeds. Each shelf is filled with lines of large and small flower pots, carrying the smallest green sprouts and the most colossal leafy wonders in them. A set of ladders rest against each shelf to give access to the highest pots, each pot tied with a colorful ribbon to signify what the plant it is.

The same curious rays of light that poured in wander back out through the open back door, leading to a garden with trees and bushes in their full green glory, swaying softly in the breeze of the sunny May afternoon. They travel to the small house at the very back and dance around it - through the window panes and empty rooms. They twine with the painted-on flowers on the safety beams and doorposts, through the weaved plants on blankets and pillows before bursting out through the chimney and back to the sky. 

It is near-perfectly idyllic and calm moment at first glance until the buzzing between the aisles and shelves of the greenhouse makes itself known. Creatures of all sizes and shapes wander around the sun-filled greenhouse, gathering pots and herbs in their hands. A gracious centaur carries two large leafy containers on his back while gently holding a bouquet of fresh-cut wildflowers - red poppies, white daisies, purple corncockles, and ragged robins. A flock of 5 fairies, not much bigger than a mans’ finger each, struggles with a pot of violets. An elf with pointy ears peaking from his long, silver hair has his arms wrapped around a barely sprouting pot of echinacea, a dusty pink ribbon around it matching the flowers that will bloom in a month.

They all and many, many more wander around the open aisles picking and choosing what they need most. They greet old acquaintances as they all meet in the same greenhouse year after year, decade after decade, generation after generation for what it seems like a century now. Here a hoofed faun could strike a conversation with a human healer, and not one being would find it odd. 

The buzzing grows in strength as the visitors begin to form a line to a counter next to the main door of the greenhouse. The simple wooden table with a chest of income and a registry book next to it stands alone, waiting for the owner of the greenhouse. As the mumbling grows in strength, a man rushes from the back of the glasshouse.

“I am so sorry for making you wait,” he says cheerfully in a loud voice, his tall frame competing even with the towering centaurs and lanky elves. His shoulders broad, hugged by a black shirt with sleeves rolled up. A deep brown apron hangs around his neck and hugs his waist, bunging at the front when he shoves his leather gloves in the front pocket. His deep brown hair fall over his rounded yet sharp face in two messy, just barely curly arches and bounce as he makes his way behind the counter. There’s a smudge of dirt and what seems to be the juice of a plant on his flushed cheeks, his forearms a bit scratched from the bushes, but a bright smile beams on his face.

“So, what have you picked out this time?” he greets each customer with a smile, striking a small talk, his overflowing charms turning even the grumpy face of a ‘very busy’ dwarf gentleman into a smile. Every bought plant is written down in his journal; each buyer noted down as their coins roll into the chest. 

“You need to get help around here, my friend,” a tall man, his red hair of flames dancing on his head wildly, says as he places various forms of marigolds on the counter - from potted to fresh-cut to dried.

“I can handle it quite well myself, Mingi,” the gardener smiles up at his friend and writes down his purchase, gold and silver coins clinking into the box.

“You could handle it when fewer people visited you. Now with the trains and ships far more guests come, especially in spring and around the May full moon,” he points out the obvious and looks around. The first rush of customers has died down, now just a dozen walking around while compared to half a hundred before.

“It’s fine. Do not worry. I’ve been doing this for long enough,” the gardener smiles, and his eyes scan the greenhouse. The shelves are now much emptier, and even though it almost saddens him to let go of each seed, he has nursed into a sprout and then a full-blown plant. But he knows they all go to good homes, serving their purpose.

“Suit yourself, Yunho. But you won’t be able to handle this for another century alone,” the fire mage lets out a sigh and gathers his items before marching out of the door. Perhaps he is right, but Yunho has no time to ponder on such things. As the line clears out, he returns to helping new and regular customers in the aisles. He makes his rounds through the rows of shelves, and as he enters the section of more decorative plants rather than practical ones, a man standing in, it catches his attention.

The man does not look like a creature of any sort, yet the cat sitting by his feet could identify him as a witch and could be is familiar. He is tiptoeing to look at the highest shelves, his lips slightly parted in, probably, an adorable habit. Coal-black hair falls back from his features revealing high cheekbones and a rounded nose, long lashes, and a full curve of the said rosy lips. ‘Beautiful’ is the first word that comes to Yunho’s mind upon seeing him, ‘cute’ being the second. He puts on his most welcoming smile as he walks over.

“Can I help you somehow?” he asks, and the man jumps a bit before turning to Yunho. The latter feels his own eyes growing big as he sees the man before him better. He is a good head shorter than Yunho but with broad shoulders and slim waist, the deep brown vest hugging his torso underneath the matching dust coat accentuating it. The collar of his white shirt is two buttons open, a protective pendant catching Yunho’s eyes. Yet nothing is as fascinating as the man’s face. The deep black hair is interrupted with a snow-white strand in good three fingers width over his forehead. It is a striking contrast, to say the least, but it is not near all.

His right eye is deep, chestnut brown with a shift of gold in it, while the left one right under the white strand is sky blue, as striking as a freshly bloomed forget-me-not. Never before has Yunho seen something so breathtakingly fascinating before, and he is taken aback for a second until the cat at their feet meows. The gardener looks down, and to his surprise, the cats’ eyes match the owners, and for a second, he is speechless. 

“Yes. Help would be wonderful,” the man speaks up first, his accent one Yunho has heard before a long time ago. All he knows of it is that the region that speaks it is several days travel away by train. 

“What exactly are you looking for?” Yunho chases his own surprised expression away with a smile. 

“Something that would be lovely to look at?” the man sounds a bit uncertain and lets his eyes wander along the shelves. “Especially if I would need to rest my eyes. Something calming but beautiful,” he adds, and his stunning eyes look back at the gardener, flustering him for a second. Like the magic of the gracious garden daylilies and wild forget-me-nots meeting in one.

“Then probably something common. Something we all have seen plenty of times yet still something carrying a dash of royalty with it,” Yunho thinks out loud and makes his way along the aisle to the shelf of roses. Smaller and bigger, already blooming and still snoozing - all in neat rows waiting to be brought home. “They are not very difficult to take care of too,” he points out as the man walks closer and starts looking at the bushes of various sizes.

“Gardener!” a voice, by the sound of it belonging to a dwarf, an angry dwarf at that, from the side of the counter calls out and Yunho, whose eyes had focused on the man spending the longest seconds looking at each plant, jumps a bit.

“Fell free to choose whichever you like,” he says quickly before rushing off to check out customers who are waiting. The line has grown again, more people walking in every minute as probably a new train has arrived in the nearby station. Yunho’s sole focus goes to his register and answering questions, he momentarily forgets about the beautiful man still standing by the roses. Only when a cat jumps onto the counter does he remember. His eyes lock with the Siamese cat looking straight back at him before the creature yawns and raises its' paw to wash its’ face.

“Am I that boring?” Yunho murmurs as he looks at the unbothered cat until a voice he now recognizes belonging to the odd-eyed man speaks.

“I’ve chosen,” the man says as he holds a pot of a barely budding rose against his stomach, both hands securely wrapped around it. 

“Are you sure you don’t want something that will bloom sooner?” Yunho asks to make sure, but the man shakes his head.

“No. This one is the one,” he smiles down at the flower, two dimples appearing in his cheeks, his eyes sparkling, and it is clear to the gardener it is indeed the one for him.

“I’m glad you found what you needed,” the gardener smiles as well but more at the man before him. He starts writing down the purchase before talking to the man again. “May I ask your name?” Yunho continues to smile, and the man looks away from his new possession to lock those stunning eyes with Yunho.

“Choi San,” he introduces himself, and there is an odd wave of calm that washes over Yunho as he hears the name, even more so as he writes it down. He is so fascinated by the loving look the two colored eyes have in them that he barely recounts the coins on the counter. Very rarely is he fascinated by whom he meets and what he sees, so it is quite a unique feeling he just can’t shake it off. If not San bowing shyly and walking away from Yunho himself, he would not snap out. 

He follows the man with his eyes, the cat jumping off the counter and following after San. Unfortunately, he is not given enough time to process the lovely man leaving as the next customer is already at the counter. The gardener is pulled back into the work in seconds, and he has no moment to think about anything else but work until the doors of the greenhouse close late into the night. The rays of the sun have changed to stars and moon, fireflies gliding around the aisles, providing more light amongst the few electric lamps stretching along with the highest parts of the shelves. With a deep sigh, Yunho picks up the register book and proceeds to check each shelf, each flowerbed recounting what has been sold and what is left.

Lastly, as he reaches the shelf of roses, a smile creeps on his lips, remembering the lovely customer from earlier. Lately, more and more new faces have been visiting his distant garden, but he knows for a fact he will remember the odd-eyed man for quite a while. Amongst fairies and nymphs, elves and centaurs, he still stood out. 

Yunho proceeds to check and count all pots of roses on the shelf, and something is not adding up even if he counts twice. All pots he has counted in the morning are still there, not single one missing, but he knows for a fact he has sold the man a rose — no doubt about that.

A sudden fear rushes through Yunho and he pushes past the shelf to the back of it where some other pots of set aside plants were standing. His eyes frantically look for the two pots he brought out of the house just a few days ago; the air of the greenhouse much better for them. His heart sinks in his stomach, and he has to hold onto the shelf as he looks at just one of the two plants being there.

“Oh no,” he lets out and drops his register book on the floor, stumbling over to the shelf and picking up the pot with a crimson red bow tied around it. “How could this happen…” he looks at the rose in his hands, and he can’t even fully grasp how he missed the crisp white bow on the pot he sold. He had no other pure white and deep red roses; he knew it well enough as these were special. More special than one could imagine.

He picks up the register, the rose still in his hand and makes his way slowly through the greenhouse. He turns off the lights, places the book down, checks if all doors are locked, and proceeds to his house through the garden, carrying the pot with him. A small flock of fireflies is still following him or rather the flower in his hands, illuminating his path, and a handful follow him into the house. With heavy steps, he walks over the front step, kicks his boots off, and stumbles to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother with the lights, the fireflies being enough, and sits at the table; the rose on it in front of him.

The fireflies settle on the fresh green leaves and Yunho lets out a long sigh, startling them a little bit. He slowly lowers his forehead to the hard surface of the table and lets out another sigh. The set of two roses - a pure white one and blood-red one - were never meant to be separated. They had grown in neighboring pots since Yunho was gifted the small pieces of roots. It was an old shapeshifter woman, whom he hasn’t seen in years when he thinks of it, who gave them to him during her last visit. They are no ordinary flowers, so his devastation only grows by the second.

The Roses of Fate was the name the woman gave them, and Yunho’s further research confirmed it. They were meant to be the wedding gift for the royalty - as long as the two roses would grow next to each other and each half of the couple took care of theirs, they would have a prosperous marriage. They were often used to find soulmates as the flowers would always find their way to each half of the future pairs without a single fluke. Yet if not taken care of by destined lovers or separated, they would wither and perish into a small root once more.

It has taken Yunho years to get them to grow and turn into the small, full, prickly bushes they are now. For the first time, he dared to take them the greenhouse, and near on the same day, his own scattered actions have ruined all his hard work. On top of that, a couple who could have gotten these will never receive them, and San will witness the rose he was so happy to find wither before his very eyes, regardless of what he will do.

“Perhaps Mingi is right…” Yunho sighs. “All this is too much for me alone,” he tries to write off this fluke to his busy business. But deep down, he knows he was distracted, enchanted even by the man before him for the first time in who knows how long, which made him lose his focus. Or perhaps it was the combination of both.

With a sigh, he stands up and, for a moment, thinks of leaving the rose on the kitchen table, but his consciousness doesn’t allow it. He carries the red ribbon marked pot to his room and places it on the nightstand on the window side of the bed. The little fireflies still reside between its’ leaves and next to the barely sprouted buds. There is a tang of sadness in his chest at the very thought that he might wake up tomorrow morning to nothing but a pile of dust in a pot. The same thought is in his head as he washes up and when he gets into bed. Even when his eyes are slowly falling shut, focusing on the rose, he keeps thinking how painful the next morning will be for him and San.

Yunho awakes with the first rays of sun coming through his window, and he opens his eyes, ready for heartbreak. Even in his dreams, his own mistake did not leave him alone, and he could see San’s breathtaking eyes peering up with him with a withered rose in his hands. However, what greets him is something unexpected.

The rose is still is as green as yesterday, not even withered a bit, its’ perky leaves shielding now sleeping firebugs from the sunlight. He inspects the plant closely - each leave, each bud - and nothing shows any signs of dying. For a fact, Yunho knows that these were not fake. Even keeping one in the greenhouse and one in the house made them both wither, let alone one being who knows where at this point. But it seemed perfectly fine.

Gently, he places it back on the nightstand. He has a full day of work ahead of him once more, and he won’t have any time till very late to check on it. He, however, keeps an eye on it till the moment he has to leave, and it, of course, remains perfectly fine. The whole day uneasiness is not leaving his heart and mind. Maybe it is the mistake he made the day before, but he double checks every purchase and each ribbon tied around a pot. In the evening, he counts everything twice and only then returns to his home. He takes the deepest breath as he takes a step into his room, but his worries do not come true.

The firebugs have woken up, slowly dancing between the still-green leaves. Once more, not a single leaf is threatening to wither, and it is the weirdest thing for Yunho. Perhaps now, as the plants were bigger, it took more time than just a day for them to feel the effect. On the one hand, he hoped that even after all the proof he had gathered over the years, they would be just simple roses. On the other, he doesn’t want his integrity and professional knowledge to be a fluke. But, if they are real, he truly doesn’t wish for San to wake up to withered, leafless branches in a couple of days. But for now, he could do nothing more but to wait.

In the first couple of weeks, the rose doesn’t change. It doesn’t grow, nor does it wither. It is in a perfect standstill until one day new, fresh green leaves begin to sprout here and there. The seemingly frozen buds slowly get fuller, petals peeking out here and there, and for a while, Yunho hasn’t been so excited. He starts and ends his days by looking at the flower pot next to his bed. Still being quite skeptical, he keeps checking every little thing of the signs of the Roses of Fate, and as they all match up, he is glad he doesn’t have a fake in his hands. He is as glad that San does not have to lose what he picked out so carefully. However, his head doesn’t fully wrap around why the plant isn’t withering, and why is it growing.

What catches him even by a bigger surprise is a deep, blood-red bloom greeting him one morning. It has opened overnight, and the whole room is filled with its’ gentle scent. It is only at that moment when it truly hits Yunho. If the other rose is still with San, it must mean he is Yunho’s…  


He tries to get rid of the annoying thought, but it keeps making its’ way back - that San might be his soulmate. It would make sense why he found the rose and why it is still thriving. At the same time, it is a piece of excruciating knowledge as San is somewhere out there - who knows where - doesn't know the significance of the white rose that has probably boomed too. And Yunho can’t go look for him,

More than a century now he has been the garden keeper of this greenhouse. It is a blessing and a curse at the same time as for as long a he remains on the property - the greenhouse, the garden, and his house - he will remain immortal. He will not age a day; no illness will grab onto him; even the smallest scratch will heal. He would perish only if he would leave the premise, and he is not ready to do it to the risk and experiment how many days would it take and would he regain the healing effect of the greenhouse upon his return. 

For now and probably for eternity, Yunho will have to live with the knowledge his soulmate is somewhere far away. He knows his face, his name, how his voice sounds, but there is an undeniable chance he will never see him again. Only as long as his rose will continue to grow and bloom will he know San is alright and doing well. Until one day, in many, many years, he will see it wither and disappear before his eyes. 

Yunho’s vision grows blurry, and he feels tears suddenly flowing over his cheeks. He hides his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees as he takes deep breathes. He had never found his reality - his existence only in this garden, greenhouse - sad or curse like until this moment. “What a fool I am…” he murmurs and looks back at the rose on his nightstand. “How I wish you would never wither,” he breathes out and hopes that maybe an unknown power nestling somewhere in the corners of this house or snoozing in the slowly riping apple trees in the garden would make his wish come true.

The rose blooms throughout the entire summer - big, full, and healthy red flowers appearing week after week. More and more fireflies flock to it through the open window during hot summer nights, and it serves as a nightlight of its own. The soft scent fills Yunho’s room, and he feels like a fool as he smiles at the flower every morning. He is just glad it is still there and thriving, which meant San is doing well. 

When autumn approaches the vivid blooming stops, petals finally gathering on the wooden surface of the nightstand. Even if filled with magic, the plant could not fight against the changes of season and needed its’ rest during winter. That is a scary thing for Yunho as he would not know how his soulmate on the other side of the land is doing if the rose went dormant. The whole winter and first months of spring, he would be clueless about what is going, and he feared this feeling.

Soon all red petals had fallen off, and even the green ones begin to shed on the table slowly, preparing for the winter sleep. By the end of October, only a few leaves hold on, but at least the stems remain vibrant green, proving it is nothing more but getting ready for the long, snow-covered winter months. It puts Yunho’s heart at some sort of ease, but he can’t help to worry as winters could be rough with the cold and illnesses spreading around. His head is so full of worries he is glad he gets almost no visitors in late autumn and winter, most of his plants sleeping, and he doesn’t need to focus on register books and counting coins. 

As November rolls around and frosts bite off the last colorful leaves from the apple, pear, plum, and cherry trees in the garden, Yunho seems to be sinking in a weird sense of calm. He rakes the leaves in big piles under the trees and bushes, over the flowerbeds outside and the small vegetable garden to secure them from the bitter winter cold. He lays gentle layers of peat on the sleeping flowerbeds in the greenhouse and caries all still growing flowerpots to the warmest side of the glasshouse. A small but powerful fireplace keeps the large space warm enough for those plants that do not sleep but cold enough for those who need rest.

One such busy afternoon, where he looks through the register to check everything for the hundredth time, his eyes stop at the page from that May afternoon. Reading over the name he didn’t know would become so dear to him when he wrote it down brings warmth to his heart. He is stuck at the page for a moment until a knock on the front door of the greenhouse startles him. If anything he is not expecting any guests. The sky is covered with a thick layer of grey clouds promising snow, and the cold even bit his nose as he walked from the house to the greenhouse. 

“Who could it be?” he wonders as he closes the book before him and walks to the door. When opening it, he doesn’t think much of who could be behind it, but as his eyes fall on the man before him, he can just let out a gasp.

Right there, right in front of him, wrapped in a large, knitted purple scarf stands San. He seems to be wearing the same coat but now buttoned up; his neck, shoulders, and chin disappearing in the purple cloud around him, almost completely hiding straps of a backpack. He has matching purple gloves on his hands, holding the potted rose close against his body, just like when he first got it. The white ribbon is still around it, or maybe it is a different one - tied in a voluptuous bow. The Siamese cat is still by his feet looking up at Yunho. As the first snowflakes falling from the sky start to settle in his coal-black hair while mixing with the white strand, he finally speaks.

“I think you have either sold me something you shouldn’t have… or something you should have,” San looks up from the flowerpot, meeting Yunho’s eyes, and they both stare at each other silently before the gardener finally manages to speak.

“Would you like to talk it over some tea?” he asks, and the odd-eyed man replies with a simple nod. They make their way through the greenhouse and the garden slowly being covered in snow to the welcoming warmth of Yunho’s home. The coat, gloves, scarf, and backpack are left at the door as they walk to the kitchen. The red rose is sitting on the windowsill, crimson bow still around the pot. As if knowing Yunho had placed it there this morning, and now San sets his next to it.

There’s a bit of awkward silence while the water for the tea boils. It becomes less tense when the two mugs with swirling petals in them are set on the table, along with a bowl of dried berries as a treat and a small pot of honey. As the scent of the tea flows around the kitchen, the warmth of it traveling through their still cold hands, they finally dare to speak. There are many questions to answer and as many answers to give. Many things are hard to explain, but Yunho still tries, and he hopes San understands. His hopes do come true.

As the first snowstorm of winter twirls behind the window, San’s hand has found its’ place in Yunho’s on top of the table. The serious and a bit awkward tone they started with has melted away like honey in their tea, laughter now filling the air. The cat, her name being Star, has found herself a spot on the windowsill next to the roses to nap, not bothered by the loud giggles of the two men who have, most definitely, found each other. 

Mingi’s eyes have grown big, he knows it, as he stares at the man behind the counter. He knows he is staring too much, but he can’t help it. “Will this be it?” asks a soft, calming voice, and he just nods, the odd-eyes looking at him hypnotizing him. “Very well,” the man before him smiles and opens a small notebook he has before him. The neatest list of plants, probably all in the gardeners’ care, can be seen with most intricate, most beautiful illustrations for each and every one along with prices. “That would be four gold and three silver coins,” he says, and Mingi can once more just nod. He barely pushes his name over his lips when the man enquires for the register, and when his coins fall into the chest instead of going out, he turns around and goes into the aisles looking for the gardener.

“Yunho!” he whisper-yells upon seeing his friend who is just climbing down the ladder and handing a pot of calla flowers to a faun. “Who is he?” he asks straight away, not minding the confused look on the fauns’ face before he walks to the line.

“Who?” Yunho asks and wipes his hands in a towel hanging from his belt.

“The man behind the counter!” Mingi almost yells and looks back at the said man who is now talking to murmuring dwarf - huffing and puffing into his beard, trying to hide the rosiness of his cheeks as the man smiles at him.

“That’s San,” the gardener smiles and has to hold a laugh as, for the first time in his long life, he sees a dwarf fiddling with his money pouch.

“Alright. But WHO is he?” Mingi emphasizes and continues watching the man work together with Yunho.

“He’s my… destiny, I guess,” the gardener’s smile only grows bigger, and Mingi has to turn to him, eyes wide once again. 

“Care to explain?” he takes a step closer to the man. “Because that doesn’t say much to me.”

“Remember the Roses of Fate?” Yunho turns to Mingi, whose mouth falls open at the mention of the very special plants. “They do work in finding who is destined for you,” he turns back the counter and lets out a small giggle. “Have you ever seen Jongho this flustered?” 

San is now counting up a broad-shouldered centaur, his built on full display for everyone to marvel at, but he looks around shyly which is so not like him. The centaurs’ cheeks are deep pink, his front leg tapping a mismatched rhythm against the tile flooring, and his tail almost whipping away a flock of 3 fairies behind him. He places the coins on the counter so slowly it is almost comical and picks up the armful of fresh flowers he has picked. So not like him, he does a small bow with his head before turning to leave, yet stops. Quickly, he pulls a vibrant purple bellflower from the stack and hands it to San, who takes it but looks at the centaur with wide eyes. 

“It matches you,” Jongho mumbles before quickly, almost galloping out, his hooves clinking against the tile floor. San just looks after him for a moment before gently putting the bellflower in a wase behind his back, already hosting a handful of flowers customers have gifted him.

“Never…” Mingi gasps out as he observes the usually calm, collected, and stoic centaur act like this is his first time outside his forest and not his probably 40th visit to the greenhouse.

“We are not sure what magic runs through San; he doesn’t know himself. He has had a familiar with him his whole life as well as protection pendant filled with magic so strong I have never seen. So it must be something special,” Yunho turns to Mingi, and as he says, so a cat walks between them and straight to the counter, graciously jumping on it. “But we are in no rush to find out.”

“How long is he here?” the fire mage asks, and they both turn to the counter once more.

“He first visited in late November and then once more in January. He moved here permanently mid-March,” the gardener answers calmly.

“He just dropped his whole life and came here?” Mingi is a bit shocked to hear such quick development, even if they were talking about soulmates and destiny.

“San illustrates spell and potion books as a job. He can do it anywhere as now a courier can come to pick and deliver manuscripts anywhere where a train station is,” comes a response ad Mingi can just nod.   
  
“But does he know…” he begins a question, and Yunho nods before he finishes it. 

“He does. About me, about the greenhouse and about the curse becoming his reality just like mine if he spends three months here. He knows it all and has decided to stay… with me,” Yunho smiles, and Mingi catches his friend and the man behind the counter, exchanging quick looks.

“Then it must be fate indeed,” the fire mage exhales and nods “I am glad you finally won’t be alone anymore,” he pats his friend on the shoulder. “See you!” he already turns around to walk away but stops and turns back to Yunho as he sees someone at the counter.

“If I would get you two more of those roses, would you grow them for me?” he asks as seriously as he can and looks back at the silver-haired man striking a small-talk with San while counting his coins. His pointy ears stick out from his hair, decorated by intricate silver earrings. Even though his stature is shorter than most elves, his demeanor less arrogant and more bright; he still has a regal aura around him, the person behind him in the line standing two steps back.

“You still believe Hongjoong could be the one?” Yunho asks, and Mingi turns back to him.

“Will you grow them for me?” Mingi asks without answering Yunho’s question.

“I will,” comes a short response, and that’s all Mingi needs before he nods and leaves, walking straight through the two-step gap in the line. He doesn’t even notice how the elf turns towards him as he walks out. “Maybe you need more courage instead of any flowers,” Yunho shakes his head and heads back into the aisles, helping the wandering customers.

The greenhouse empties out only as the May sun begins to set. The last flock of fairies caries out a basket of herbal teas, fluttering in the wind a bit, but still managing to turn around and wave goodbye to the two men standing in the door. Only when they can no longer be seen on the path that leads there through the woods does San let out a deep breath. He leans his head against Yunho’s shoulder, and the taller of two raises his arm, welcoming the odd-eyes man into his embrace and draping his arm around San’s shoulder. The latter wraps his arms around Yunho’s middle and rests his head against the man’s chest.

“And how did you manage all this alone?” he asks and looks up, meeting Yunho’s eyes already looking down at him.

“Honestly? No clue,” he smiles and presses a kiss on San’s forehead. “All I know is that now it is much, much easier,” he adds, and as the man in his embrace tiptoes, he doesn’t shy away from their lips meeting just for a second.

“Inventarization and then home?” San asks, and as Yunho nods as they break apart from the comfortable hug. The electric lights turn on soon, fireflies dancing between the flowerpots. They do go out faster than when Yunho worked alone, and the two make their way home through the garden hand in hand, Star following them.  


The two ready to bloom roses are sitting in the kitchen window, proving for probably the 10th time that they have helped those who were meant to be together meet. They prove that fate finds its way - always.  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei)  
  
  
Commissions [ HERE](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei/status/1219648851457593345)  
  
** OTHER ATEEZ FAN FICTION **  
**||** [ YunSan: Your Light ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19869763) **||** [ YunSan: The Silver Mask ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159272) **||** [ YunSan: The Morning Alarm ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284231) **||** [ YunSan: A Gift ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21452566) **||** [ YunSan: Useless Skills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21523681) **||** [ YunSan : Cliche ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573070) **||** [ YunSan: The Little Things ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648208) **||** [ YunSan: It All Starts Somewhere ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684025) **||** [ YunSan: Perfect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719539) **||** [ YunSan: Sugar and Spice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758428) **||** [ YunSan: Magnetic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932962) **||** [ JongWoo: Slow Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794587) **||** [ 2Choi: City Lights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706930) **||** [ 2Choi: Call fo the Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101031) **||** [ SanHwa: Until it Overflows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22212610%22) **||** [ SanHwa: Gallows-Birds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255243) **||** [ YunSan : Not a Cliche ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22362748)


End file.
